


will you teach me how to love the stars like fire?

by vinnywrites



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora is tho, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catra and Adora’s victims are not having a fun time, Catra suddenly becoming a mom: can u not, F/F, adora is trying to court death in the most horrible way possible by making her job harder, and she tells me them to not do it in the future, because she appears whenever they stop killing someone, bevause they don’t listen, blame criminal minds instead haha, dont @ me, every Murderer in the world knows that catra exists, i was half high on my meds while writing this soooo, important note ig, like rver, serial killers: 🧍🏽♀️, yea she’s not having a great time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 09:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30086994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinnywrites/pseuds/vinnywrites
Summary: You are effortlessly beautiful, she thinks as she watches Catra snap her fingers and with a wave of her hand, the body disappears and so does the evidence. Undeniably exquisite, she thinks as Catra scolds her with a bored face but a stern stone. The white and fluffy clouds to my ever blue sky, because without you, I am forever incomplete.Or, Catra is the Grim Reaper and Adora is trying to get some pussy by becoming a sociopathic spree killer.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 131





	will you teach me how to love the stars like fire?

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @vinnytweets  
> Tumblr: @vinnyposts

**THE SMELL OF DREAD** would hang around this long because Adora always knew of everything since she was young. You see, Adora Glenn has always been a particularly and strange child. Unlike her older brother, she was always too quiet, was always watching — the lack of emotion behind her Grey eyes unsettled anybody that would dare look to young. Even when she started to act and resemble a normal child — her youthful now decorated with a large and youthful smile instead of a stern and emotionless glare — she has never been… normal.

Perhaps the entire town was right, because if anybody saw this moment, they would knew that their concerns of the blonde girl would be correct. She couldn’t breath as she stared down at her hands, white skin so pale that it glowed whenever the moon shone down at her was decorated in such a bright color red, the metal smell almost her lunch crawl up her throat and escape to the floor and embrace earthly remains — yet she held strong. 

_Alright then,_ she thought as she turned around, ignoring the limp body of the quarterback football player that attended her highschool and had a tendency to sneak his hands up girls skirts. _I killed somebody. What to do now?_

Unlike others, most would feel overwhelmed as guilt and remorse swallowed them whole — not Adora, for she has always been strange — she was much more worried about the reputation she had just fixed of herself. It had taken years, but finally when people look at her, they do not see a strange child but rather a successful teenage girl that’s ready to dominate the world by becoming a lawyer. If anybody found out, her entire future could be ruined! Goodbye Harvard and law school, along with that beautiful scholarship that was confirmed through email. Her entire life-plan gone, shambles. 

No, she decided. That simply won’t do it. She worked too hard for this, she worked too hard for everything to fail. She refuses. She _must_. 

She turns around, unclenching her hands as thoughts and thoughts face through her mind. Her father has always been a handy man whenever he wasn’t on a hospital shift, he liked building things — nobody would be concerned if Adora had decided to take his tool box and a few shovels into the woods — they would assume that she was picking up his habit. And a fire, of course, to burn the evidence and throw his accessories into the lake — no, there’s a beach in a few cities nearby, Adora would just have to hold onto the mans possessions until. 

There was no need to panic. 

Alas, she panicked. For there was a person before her — beautiful one, at that. She was small, smaller than Adora (but then again, mostly everyone was) with large and covered in multiple layers of dark clothing that she must be sweating underneath the blazing hot heat of the sun. Adora found herself lost at words as she studied the facial structure of the woman before, particularly because she didn’t seem all that surprised to see Adora with bloody hands or even the dead body. She seemed… bored, annoyed, even. 

Adora then noticed she was holding a weapon — large and intimidating black scythe that was so tall that it tickled the leaves attached to the branches of the trees. She let out a sigh, and snapped her fingers — and to Adora’s surprise — an immediate and floating scroll appeared before the woman. 

“Earth-3A,” she mumbled but since it was only the two of them in the forest — a dead body between them — Adora could hear her perfectly clear. Her voice was magnificent as well, with her stature and her looks, her voice should’ve been higher and sweeter — not a deep and raspy tone but Adora found that she didn’t mind it. It was calming, almost. “Universe 307.9,” she glared down at the dead body before them. “Tyler Johnson, mortal, killed by Adora Glenn — _again_ ? _Seriously_? The hell did this guy do to her?”

“Who are you?” Adora decided to finally be reasonable. 

The woman waved her hands as if dismissing a topic. Adora noticed that her nails were unbelievably long, they resembled claws, almost, and they were painted pitch black. “Merchant of Death, Hades, yada yada, but this mortal realm—” she squinted her eyes at the scroll, tightening her lips in thought as her brows also started to furrow. It was almost… adorable. “—you have deemed me as the Grim Reaper, or to some religions, _Satan_ or _Chaos_ .” She rolled her eyes. “That version of me is absolute pain in the ass, _ugh_.” 

She straightened up her spine, however, as if remembering that Adora was there. Yet she still looked bored and resembled as if she would rather be anywhere but _here_ . She pointed her finger at her, and her harsh tone strongly reminded of Adora her mother whenever she reprimanded her brother and her. “You better not go turning out like Adora from Earth-9F, I already have to deal with your — her — bullshit ever since _that_ Catra decided to take a vacation. If you make my life harder, I swear to the goddess above—”

“Earth-9F?” Adora tilted her head. The woman — Catra — was strange — just as strange as herself. She had never thought she would find someone just as peculiar as her, for she never really understood the concepts of empathy and love and being selfless. From all the science books, paired with the religious ones, if any had found out what actually went through her head, she would be shunned from society and _that_ — that terrified her. “I… I don’t understand.”

Catra only rolled her eyes. “Not many would. Look, kid, you killed somebody, _woo_ , congrats, just… don’t do it again. Forgive your sins or whatever the saying is, alright?”

“I still don’t understand.” 

Catra groaned, and with the wave of her hand, the body of Tyler Johnson had become to disappear — along with the blood that coated the dirt and the leaves on the ground, and the blood that coated Adora’s hands. She visibly relaxed, the thick scent of metal was long gone. Even the bruises on her knuckles when Tyler tried fighting back disappeared, along with the rips of her clothing. She looked… normal, as if she didn’t kill anybody. “Don’t do it again.” She warned.

Adora nodded and watched as the woman begin to sink into the shadows, and even more questions started to race through her mind. She wanted — no, _needed_ answers. 

***

The first time she killed someone was completely accidental, the second time was on purpose — but only until much later. She was finally in college, and in a big city. She had to be smart about this, she wanted answer, yes, but never at the cost of getting caught and getting put away in jail. She travelled to the darker side of the city, donned in darker shades of clothing and wearing big and blocky sunglasses that cover the entirety of her upper face, with a turtle neck with a too-long neck that she can pull up to cover the lower half of her face. 

The first time, she was depending on entirely adrenaline. Everything happened so fast that it was a blur, she can barely remember it even happening — when she realized what exactly happened, it was too late. Not this time, _this_ time she’ll relish in it. 

She fucked up. She hit the more important arteries by accident, and as the prostitute fell to the floor, she died quickly of blood loss. This was… unacceptable. For the longest time, she had always wanted to be a lawyer. She might have to change her career choices, then, to a trauma surgeon instead. She had to be aware of the most fatal parts of the body, after all. If she was going to kill someone to get answers, then she deserved to enjoy it.

(She tried ignoring that.) 

_Catra_ materializes in front of her, a frown on her face and with her brows furrowed but she was still visibly bored _and_ annoyed. She looked different, this time her black hood wasn’t covering the entirety of her face — encasing her long and dark brown curls that were pulled into a high ponytail, an elastic with golden skulls holding it together. Her robes this time were more fancy, gently shimmering underneath the lighting of the streets lights and as the robes slightly waved, she can see the reflection of stars in the robes. “I was busy.” She grumbled, her jaw clenching and as she snapped her fingers — the same scroll from months ago appeared before her, and she did the same expression — narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brows, her lips tightening to the point that they even thinned. 

Their interaction last time was so short that Adora didn’t have enough time to admire her features. She took her time this time. Her skin was dark and smooth and tight, with some areas on her skin — that were exposed, which was not much — had packs of freckles and beauty marks. Majority of them were dotted across her face, the freckles were mostly on her nose and the moles were delicately placed above her brows, lips and on the side of her chin and jawline. 

Some of them were barely there, and Adora then concluded that Catra must’ve been wearing makeup. Her eyes seem sharper than usual, and her lashes fuller with her lips shiner. That’s when Adora noticed it… her eyes…

They were beautiful. A picture mixture between an coming storm and the dryness of the desert sand. She didn’t know how to describe them — she doesn’t know if she could describe them — she could try all she want, but her voice will forever be stuck in her throat as she tries to gather enough words, enough _courage_ to voice her opinion upon the personification of death before her. 

_You are effortlessly beautiful,_ she thinks as she watches Catra snap her fingers and with a wave of her hand, the body disappears and so does the evidence. _Undeniably exquisite,_ she thinks as Catra scolds her with a bored face but a stern stone. _The white and fluffy clouds to my ever blue sky, because without you, I am forever incomplete._

_Incomplete._

Incomplete. **Incomplete**.

She has never felt this way, she didn’t even know it was possible for her to even _feel_ this way — she has been told it was impossible for her to feel empathy. They said it was impossible that she would never be able to love someone. That she was incapable for ever feeling compassions for others. 

And maybe they were right, maybe this was her twisted version of _love_ , and maybe they were wrong — they’ve been wrong before.

Maybe it mattered, maybe it didn’t — but Catra was going to be hers. 

No matter what. 

***

“You have got to be kidding me.” Catra deadpanned, staring at the gruesome scene before her. 

Adora didn’t like messes — in fact, she often goes out of her way to always finds solution that always have the non-messy option, but _this_ — is both horrifying yet beautiful. The mangled bodies of people she could care less about — prostitutes to drug dealers to homeless men and women — lay motionless on the floor, resembling a large cuddle pile. Yet they were donned in expensive clothing, their face clear from any imperfections as white roses tinted with their blood surrounded the room in the warehouse. 

Adora was rather proud of it. Catra looked as if she would rather be anywhere than there. Catra wasn’t even staring at the rather large pile of bodies, but rather at the writing on the grey walls that were asking her permission to court her. “Are you serious?” She turned to Adora, she was wearing much more casual robes, these ones didn’t exactly shimmer brightly no matter how dim the lighting was — it looked far more like the very dark abyss, Adora felt like she was staring into pure nothingness whenever her eyes darted over the clothings that Catra worn. 

The personification of death even seemed a little… stressed. Her hair wasn’t as neat as one would’ve preferred, practically strangled into a low ponytail hold, the casual elastic seemed seconds away from breaking from how large Catra’s hair was. Bags underneath her eclipse like eyes were more prominent than ever, no wonders of magic could ever hide them. 

Catra let out a sigh, rubbing her temples as she refused to look over at Adora’s way. “You serious?”

Adora nodded. “ _Deadly_.” She said, biting her tongue as she tried not to laugh. 

Catra groaned as her hands covered the entirety of her face, her voice bouncing off the warehouse walls and created a large echo that made Adora’s rings ear. It didn’t sound like her voice, well, it did but not _entirely_. It was if there was something deeper, almost older — it sounded ancient — groaning with her. The walls of the warehouse shook, the cement ceilings had some flakes and pieces falling to the ground as a layer of cement dust started to cover the entirety of her vision. Catra’s eyes seem to glow as well, with pieces of her hair lifted up in the air — as if they were floating. 

She then closed her eyes, mumbled something under her breath (“I’m working on my anger issues, _I am working on my anger issues_ …”) before opening them again. She snapped her fingers and the yellowing scroll appeared before her. Unlike all the other times, she didn’t take the time to read each name and their occupation in life, skimming through them with a harsh grimace on her face and with a snap of her fingers — all evidence was cleared and there was no blood appearing on her clothes. She snapped her fingers again, her nails scraping against one another and the destruction in the room that she caused seemed to go away — every particle of dust in the air glowed for a few seconds before simply vanishing. 

She felt herself become breathless by the acts of magic. Catra had done it as if it were the most simplest thing in the world, even while she did look more annoyed than bored, with just a careless snap of her fingers… she cleaned up everything. _Perfection,_ her mind taunted. Her heart started to beat faster in agreement. 

“Are you asking me out on a date right now?”

Adora found herself nodding. “If that won’t be an inconvenience.” 

Catra looked ready to laugh. “You’re an inconvenience.” _Ouch_. “You are making my job ten-times harder and—” a sudden glow enveloped the room, as a glowing phone appeared before Catra’s face as a monotone voice started to read out foreign names. As Adora continued to listen, she quickly realized that’s how Catra got to places and collected bodies — the glowing phone would tell her who killed who, the address and the exact country where it was. 

Catra’s eyes twitched as the voice continued to list off multiple voices, and Adora’s jaw began to drop as they hit the five minute mark. She grabbed the phone, some of her fingers twitching — obvious that she wants to crush the phone into pieces — and points one of her fingers at Adora. “We’ll talk about this later.” She practically growls. “Don’t fucking kill anybody when I’m gone.” 

***

Adora reached her apartment and open the door — to find Catra sitting on her couch, channel-surfing. She was still dressed in her robes, her hair more chaotic than usual and her eye bags still prominent, with a bowl of popcorn on her lap as her eyes stayed glued to the vibrant screen of ever-changing channels. 

“Sit.” She commands as she throws a piece of popcorn into her mouth. Adora obeys. Catra turned to glare at her, her words with an obvious intent to sit at one of the other chairs in the living room, not exactly beside her but Adora has always excelled at playing dumb. 

She smiles at her. Catra’s glare only intensified. 

“You want to date me?” Adora nodded. “Me? The _Grim Reaper_?” She nods again. “I’ll be working twenty-four seven, I don’t have time for a relationship — not even a romantic one.” 

“Get another Catra to cover your shifts or something.”

Catra blinked. “ _What?_ ”

“I remember our first meeting vividly — I have an eidetic memory—”

“Of course you do—”

“—and you mentioned having to cover another Catra’s shift because she was on vacation.” She smiled at Catra. “You have time for dating.” 

Catra sighed. “I have time for dating.” She let out another sigh, and her shoulders slumped. “If I… agree to go on a date with you, and that’s a big _if_ —” she immediately said after noticing how bright Adora’s face became. “Will you make my job and life easier by not killing people?”

That was… _debatable_ but Catra didn’t have to know that. She seemed too, however, even as Adora nodded energetically. As each second passes, Catra resembled more and more like a soldier who had lost a great battle, or knew who she was losing a chess game from the beginning. 

She let out another sigh. Adora’s smile widened. 

“Oh, fuck it,” she groaned. “How hard can it be, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> i blame criminal minds.


End file.
